


In the Wake of My Inferno, You Turned Everything to Ash

by MossyLogs



Series: You and I, Slowly Burning Together [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dream and Tommy are in this for like 3 seconds, Evil Wilbur Soot, Gen, Ghost Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Ghost Wilbur Soot, Ghosts, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Insane Wilbur Soot, Jschlatt Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Rape/Non-con, Quackity is a dick, Sad Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), he doesn't know what he's doing, he realizes it tho, he's trying his best tho, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:00:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28848708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MossyLogs/pseuds/MossyLogs
Summary: Technoblade struggles with the morality of the secrets he’s kept hidden. Quackity desperately tries to consolidate the ghosts that haunt him with his ambitions. Finally, Wilbur and Schlatt get ready to watch the SMP burn.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt, Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade
Series: You and I, Slowly Burning Together [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2063316
Comments: 30
Kudos: 139





	In the Wake of My Inferno, You Turned Everything to Ash

**Author's Note:**

> This won't make sense unless you've read the last part of the series. :P
> 
> Y'know, something about writing this intense angst and having to type out “Quackity” every few seconds made me lose my shit so many times. If you think about the concept of this fic existing for too long, it really becomes the most ridiculous shit ever

Snow drifted down lazily from the sky, nestling itself in the pink hair of the man that stood beneath it. Technoblade had his eyes set to the sky. His robes of white and blue blended in perfectly with the snowy hills surrounding him, betrayed only by his hair. Waiting patiently for the dark to call monsters out of their graves, he couldn’t help but think of how much he cherished the snow. It seemed a perfect place to hide. Given enough time, it could surely cover anything.

~~_“Cold. We’re too cold. Blood for the blood god. Go home. Kill. There are already monsters! I wanna go home. So cold. Blood would be warm. Hurt something. Do it.”_ ~~

Letting out a deep sigh, Techno watched the mist rise from his lips. But before he could begin his hunt, he noticed a figure glowing softly in the distance. Oh no. Grunting unhappily, he conceded the hunt had to be aborted, lest he be hunted himself. He turned quickly, his cape swishing gracefully around him. Leisurely, he began his trek home. Watching the figure weave slowly toward him, he kept a steady pace. He knew that glow from a mile away.

~~_“It’s him. It’s him. It’s him. Hurt him. Run. Run away. It’s him!”_ ~~

“Techno!” Wilbur called, barely dodging between the snow. “Hello, Technoblade.”

Techno gave an amicable smile. “Ghostbur.”

“Have you noticed it’s snowing? I’m going to melt!” Wilbur said, returning the smile. “Can I stay at your place for a while?”

“Sure.”

The two of them fell into a polite silence. That was Techno’s goal when it came to Wilbur, to remain civil. It was easier that way. If he pretended not to notice the things he did, he wouldn’t have to face the many uncomfortable conversations they were long overdue for. Perhaps somewhat naively, he hoped those conversations would never happen. He hoped nobody else had to find anything out. Maybe, just maybe, it could all be lost to the waves of time. More than anything, he hoped the guilty feeling that ghosted between those thoughts would disappear with it.

~~_“You saw. He deserves to be destroyed. You saw what he did.”_ ~~

-

The sun barely peeked over the horizon, casting warm rays of orange, purple, and red as a final goodbye before it disappeared. Quackity stormed down the prime path, feeling as though he was seconds from burning something down. That bastard, self-absorbed, power-hungry, motherfucker- Dream had the audacity to _laugh_ at him when he confronted the green dickhead about Techno. Stupid bitch brushed him off like he was a child. Well, Quackity was going to show that limp-dick-looking-ass cum-bucket that he was anything but.

“Hey.” A voice echoed beside him.

In an undeniably embarrassing fashion, Quackity screamed and flailed backward. Schlatt, or rather his ghost, chortled at him like he always did. Well, it wasn’t exactly like how he used to do it. It didn’t quite sound as… malicious. Quackity wasn’t sure how he felt about that, or anything anymore really. Not after what Schlatt had told him…

“What the hell man?” He snapped, hand on his chest.

“I can practically see the steam spewing out of your ears,” Schlatt said, wiggling his fingers next to Quackity’s head. “Did you piss yourself in front of Dream or somethin’?”

“No.” Quackity smacked his hand away.

He really wasn’t in the mood for his- for Schlatt’s fuckery at that moment. After all that preparation, after gathering the butcher army, he’d finally gotten Techno right where he wanted him. It was a desperately needed win. Or it should’ve been. He couldn’t stop thinking about the moment it had all gone wrong. A spray of light as the anvil seemingly crushed Techno’s head… but then he was gone. The cage was empty, and the stupid pig was sprinting away across the grass, into that tunnel. But most of all, he couldn’t forget the sight of Dream slinking out of the tunnel and running off like he hadn’t just fucked everything over like he always did. Quackity could feel himself getting worked up all over again.

Schlatt’s eyes followed him as he continued toward L’manburg. The ghost hesitated for several seconds before following him. Strangely, that seemed to piss Quackity off too. Schlatt was so much more timid as a ghost than he was when he was alive. Maybe that’s what dying did to a person. That would seem to track with what happened to Ghostbur, although Schlatt insisted that was a ruse. He insisted a lot of things. Quackity glanced back at him.

_“Wil… Wilbur wouldn’t do that.”_

_“You have no idea what he’s capable of. All it took was a little spark and… he completely lost it.”_

_Quackity gazed at the dim anguish on the ghost’s face. He struggled with the urge to reject the idea that something like that could’ve happened without him even knowing. No way, there was no way. It couldn’t have- if it- but he-_

_“W-why didn’t you tell me?”_

_“I didn’t remember.” Schlatt looked away before whispering “Or maybe I wanted to forget.”_

Quackity looked forward again. He didn’t want to think about it. There were bigger problems to be tackled, wars to be fought, demons to defeat. Sure, he’d promised Schlatt he would help him get revenge on Wilbur, but that would happen in due time. Once they cut the head off the snake, so to speak, the rest of the power-hungry assholes would crumble with it. Schlatt could wait. The past could wait. He didn’t want to think about it.

-

At last, they reached the lonely little house Techno had made his base. Wilbur scampered up the steps ahead of him, ducking through the doorway as if he’d just barely made it in time. After stomping his boots free of snow, Techno followed him. He tried to ignore the snow Wilbur was tracking around as he tottered about. The warmth from his fireplace overwhelmed him, quickly moving from relieving to uncomfortable. So, quite gently, Techno leaned his trident against the wall and unclipped his cape.

“It’s been so long since we’ve had the chance to spend any time together, Techno.” Wilbur broke the silence, blithely digging through one of Techno’s chests. “Just the two of us anyway.”

~~_“Hurt him now!”_ ~~

Techno hung his cape on the wall, not bothering to face Wilbur. “I suppose it has.”

“You seem a little down. Is it because all those people tried to execute you?”

Techno chuckled stiffly. He certainly did not wish to relive the memory. In lieu of an answer, he simply shuffled over to his brewing stand. The last person he wanted to talk about it with was Wilbur. Idly, he started messing around with the potions he had been brewing. They weren’t nearly ready, but it wasn’t like Wilbur would know that. Wilbur hummed softly.

“Here, how about you have some blue?” He shoved the crystals into Techno’s face, suddenly all too close.

~~_“Burn your hand. Burn him. He knows. Eat something. Please, please, please. Burn the house down. Blood. So hungry. Kill and eat a human. He’s going to kill you first. He knows.”_ ~~

Gently pushing the crystals away, Techno shook his head. “Uhhh, I’m good.”

“Go on, have some. Calm yourself.” Wilbur tried again.

“I am calm.”

~~_“ **Break it**.”_ ~~

Despite his words, Techno pushed them away too forcefully the second time. They slipped from the ghost’s hands, shattering on the floor. Both of them stared at the tiny blue pile in silence. Techno straightened up slowly. He didn’t mean to do that.

“Aw…” Wilbur lowered his arms. “My blue… again…”

Sighing, Techno bent down to scoop the pile up. “It’s fine.”

“Y-yeah, don’t worry. I have more!”

Wilbur dug around in his pocket while Techno dumped the dust out the window. The tiny particles drifted up into the night sky. It was strangely ominous, as if they would turn the clouds themselves blue so that it even snowed blue. That would be terrible. Turning back, Techno made eye contact with Wilbur. He was smiling in that particular way he was prone to doing these days. It seemed innocent, in an almost dazzling sort of way. Mostly though, Techno found it haunting. It was more of a ghost than the man himself. He couldn’t bring himself to smile back this time. In so many ways, he was just too tired. Wilbur noticed. The atmosphere shifted, just enough to be inescapable.

_~~“No more hiding. He knows you know. You gave yourself away. Hurt him. Burn him. Please. Run away. So tired. Can’t run. Fight. Run. Please. He knows.”~~_

“Oh.” Wilbur stepped back, expression slowly lowering. “You know, don’t you?”

Carefully watching the other’s shift in demeanor, Techno hummed gently. “I know you better than anyone, Wilbur.”

“Do you?”

They stared at each other in silence. The air seemed to grow thick as Wilbur’s expression darkened. Techno couldn’t even act surprised, only able to produce a small nod. Something in Wilbur’s expression cracked at that. He broke into laughter, throwing his head back and balling his fists. He sounded just like he had that night. Running a hand through his hair, his burning gaze landed on Techno again. Despite knowing that this would come eventually, Techno felt sick.

“It’s kind of embarrassing that you let me go on with that character for so long.” Wilbur shook his head, seeming amused. “Honestly, I’m a little surprised you didn’t try to tell anyone. Then again, maybe it shouldn’t be all that surprising. You have been keeping secrets for me for a long time, haven’t you?”

_~~“Bastard! Knew it. We knew it. Why? So many secrets. Run away.”~~_

It was unsettling, how eager Wilbur seemed to have been to shed the skin he’d been parading around in since he’d come back. And the look he was giving Techno now, as if they were accomplices, brought up old feelings he had been working hard to bury. This was bad. If they had this conversation now, it would only end poorly.

“I don’t want to talk about this.” Techno turned back to his potions, looking down at them as if they’d become the most interesting thing in the world. He could see Wilbur grin in his peripheral vision.

“Oh? Feeling a little guilty?” Wilbur drawled, walking around the room like he was strolling through a museum. “That’s understandable.”

“Drop it, Wilbur.”

The ghost chuckled lightly but didn’t say anything else. Somehow, the seconds of silence that followed were worse. Techno didn’t move, a horrible ache rising gradually in his chest. It was becoming harder to ignore, this part of his friend. He wanted, more than anything, to believe Wilbur was a good person. It wasn’t easy. Yet the days they’d spent together, so many years ago, sparring or just talking for hours on end, were some of the happiest memories he had. Even more recently, after he’d first joined Pogtopia, he’d been so happy to have someone on his side. But in the end, Wilbur hadn’t really been on his side. He couldn’t have been. Because if Wilbur was on his side and he wasn’t a good person…

_~~“What does that say about you?”~~_

-

“He’s been gone for so long,” Schlatt said as the two of them came to a stop at the top of the stairs leading down to L’manburg. “It’s making me nervous. He’s probably up to something.”

“Who?” Quackity asked distractedly, looking down into the country for any signs of its president. “Dream?”

Schlatt crossed his arms. “Wilbur, dumbass.”

“He was with Techno when we tried to-” Quackity sighed shakily, turning to look at Schlatt. “Look, he’s probably just fucking around at Techno’s base. Don’t worry about it. Wilbur’s dead, he can’t do anything. Can we please focus on Dream?”

“I’m dead and I’m doing plenty of things. And why would we focus on Dream?”

Quackity laughed. “Why would we- Because he’s the cause of every goddamn problem on this SMP! He sticks his nose into every little thing, regardless of whether or not it concerns him. He proved that when he helped Techno.”

“Right…” Schlatt rolled his eyes. “Because if Dream wasn’t here, we all would’ve gotten along so well. It’s not like someone started a nation on his land just to piss him off.”

“Why are you defending him?”

“I’m not defending him. I’m just trying to say that he doesn’t matter, not for what we’re trying to do anyway.”

“He matters completely for what _I’m_ trying to do!” Quackity cried, getting frustrated. “He doesn’t get to control everyone like that. I’m gonna fucking kick his stupid seat out from under him until he’s the one begging me to listen.”

Schlatt laughed. “Good luck with that, bucko. You don’t just walk up to Dream and kick his shit. And he wouldn’t beg like that. On top of that, outsmarting him would never work. You have to beat him at his own game, fair and square. So, why even bother?”

“That’s bullshit.” Quackity tried to poke Schlatt’s shoulder but his finger went straight through. “Dream doesn’t play fair and square. I want that motherfucker dead.”

“Right, because you’re the one who got him to fight for you. I forgot you know everything, sorry.” Schlatt uncrossed his arms and groaned. “This is so boring.”

-

“Ugh, nope!” Wilbur said abruptly, throwing his hands up. “I can’t do it. I’ve been bottling all this up for too long! It gets so boring, always playing stupid. Aren’t you tired of pretending too?”

Techno rolled his eyes in an almost too obvious show of nonchalance. “I don’t have to pretend.”

Wilbur didn’t buy it. They stared at each other silently, the ghost’s grin growing slowly and Techno’s frown only deepening. Breaking the tense air, Wilbur snorted.

“Are you in denial, Techno? That’s hilarious.”

_~~“Hurt him. Burn him. Please, I’m so hungry. He’s so small. Run away.”~~_

Techno was starting to get pissed off. Why was Wilbur talking about this? Didn’t he know where this conversation would inevitably lead? Did he want that? From the shit-eating grin on his face, it was hard not to think that he did.

“Are you trying to push my buttons right now?” Techno asked. “Do you want us to fight?”

“No, no!” Wilbur raised his hands placatingly, smile unchanged. “Of course not. We’re on the same side. I just want to help you self-actualize.”

“What?”

Wilbur hummed slowly, as if trying to choose the right words. “You saw me that night… and you knew damn well what I’d done. Yet, you didn’t say anything, did you?”

“We were in the middle of a war.” Techno deflected easily, the excuse a familiar one.

It was Wilbur’s turn to roll his eyes. “We’re _always_ in a war! How is that justification? Does that mean you think wars give you the right to do whatever you want? Do you think I was justified?”

_~~“He was. He wasn’t. He was. He wasn’t. He was. He wasn’t. You were. He-”~~_

Techno bit his tongue until his sharp teeth drew blood. The instant the coopery liquid began to fill his mouth, the world became quiet in a way it rarely did. A few seconds of solace. A few seconds to think. There was no way that Wilbur wasn’t trying to manipulate him. To do what, he wasn’t sure. But he refused to analyze the choices he’d made back then. He’d done what he had to in order to win the war. It was pointless to mull over and Wilbur must have been aware of this. No, he had to have an ulterior motive rather than just ‘self-actualization.’

"What the hell is your goal here?" Techno asked, upfront.

"My goal here?" Wilbur chuckled dryly. "You mean my purpose for returning to this earth?"

Techno didn't answer, simply watching as Wilbur glided to the window. He looked out across the snowfields with an almost wistful gaze. Techno knew what lay in that direction.

"L'manburg." He finally continued. "My great unfinished symphony. How I long to pluck your final notes, put you to rest as no one else can. But it's gone now, isn't it? That country that I built. It has been from the moment someone else laid their filthy hands on it. No one else should write my symphony. They aren't allowed to. It died with me that day. The crater they disgrace its name with is nothing but a ghost, as I am. We want the same thing, Technoblade, as we have for so long. We both want it gone. Them gone."

Techno scoffed. "You don't understand what I want. I just want the government gone."

"Right, right. Of course you do.” Wilbur muttered, nodding halfheartedly. He looked up abruptly to catch Techno’s eye. “Honestly, you insult me, Technoblade, by assuming I don't also know you as well as you know me. I do."

"Clearly you don't."

Techno intended to sound condescending. Yet he couldn’t stop the hurt from slipping into his voice. Evidently, Wilbur didn’t know him at all. It was so damn frustrating, to think you’re making yourself perfectly clear but still have no one understand. How many times had he explained himself, over and over again? He could state how he felt outright, and people would still only hear what they wanted from it. They read too much or too little into it. He didn’t understand what he was doing wrong. Or maybe it was that no one cared to listen. The thought made him bitter.

Watching Techno carefully, Wilbur did seem to know him well enough not to bite back again. Instead, he fished another handful of blue crystals out of his pocket. He held them loosely as he walked around the room aimlessly again. It made Techno nervous, having him pace like that. But perhaps it meant the conversation was over. He decided to return to his ‘busy work’ and just ignore the ghost. As soon as it stopped snowing, he was kicking the bastard out.

Wilbur hovered around him a little, unsubtly trying to hold the blue near him. Even as Techno tried to lean away equally unsubtly, the crystals deepened in color. A little weight lifted in his chest. Damn ghost and his weird-ass crystals. It felt as though someone was sprinkling water over the fire in his mind, slowly fogging the world up as the flame went out. It was almost relaxing. He wasn’t so angry… he wasn’t… When did he start holding the crystals?

_~~“Run.”~~_

"Where is Tommy?” Inexplicably, Wilbur was on the other side of the room, looking down the ladder. “I should hope he hasn’t been listening to all of this. He might think differently of us, become less useful."

Several seconds of silence follow as Techno tried to process what just happened. He set the crystals down slowly, dimly feeling a part of his soul follow after them. Where the hell did Wilbur get those things? Turning sluggishly, he tried to make eye contact with the ghost.

“I think he’s been working on that ugly tower of his.” Techno blinked slowly. “What- how is he useful?”

Wilbur sighed like what he was about to say was unfortunate but true, shaking his head. "Tommy is so easily manipulated, isn’t he? If you think about it, he’s really the perfect lackey. Gullible, loyal, fearless, and just annoying enough that you don't feel bad for using him."

Techno furrowed his brow, barely catching what Wilbur was saying as the fog lifted. "I'm not… manipulating him."

"You are.” Wilbur shrugged indifferently. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you. I did it too.”

_~~“Tommy, where’s Tommy? Blood. Find him. Kill him. No, no! It’s all Wilbur’s fault. He’s right. Why would you do this?”~~_

For the first time, Techno struggled to shoot back a rebuttal. If he was being completely honest, he _was_ using Tommy. He wanted to believe it was justified. There was a government to be taken down, a war to win. On top of that, Tommy had used him first. Right, Tommy used him first. Wilbur was twisting things around again.

-

“Boring? What the hell are you talking-”

Quackity paused, the words dying in his mouth. Schlatt only rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets absentmindedly like he was looking for something. The dumb ghost was right, Quackity was slowly realizing. He wasn’t the one who got Dream to fight for him, the one who somehow got the tyrant to inexplicably pull a 180 out of the blue… for a book. Schlatt had some piece of information that was so important to Dream he was willing to go up against the entire server to get it. Quackity smiled slowly. Dream had made a big scene about not caring about anything on the server, but clearly, he cared about something. A weakness.

“How did you do it?”

“Hm? Do what?” Schlatt asked distractedly, before he finally stopped rummaging around in his own pockets and mumbled, “There’s gotta be a way to make ghost cigarettes.”

“Get Dream to fight for you. What was in the book you gave to him?”

Schlatt looked off into the distance. “Or maybe ghost beer…”

“Jesus Christ, fucking listen to me!” Quackity grabbed at Schlatt’s shoulder to spin him back around. Even though his fingers slipped through, Schlatt still turned, almost unwittingly. “What did you give Dream? What weakness did you exploit?”

“Weakness?” Schlatt blinked at him a few times before looking amused. “I didn’t exploit a weakness. I gave him a gift, played his game… for as long as I was mentally capable of doing so anyway.”

“Just tell me what you gave him.”

Schlatt pulled away from him, studying his face for a few moments before pursing his lips. “No.”

“No? What the fuck do you mean no?”

“I mean no, bitch.” Schlatt scoffed. “I’m starting to feel like this partnership is getting a little one-sided. You told me you would help me get revenge on Wilbur if I gave you advice on starting and growing a country, and _I did_. Now, you’re basically running two countries but, even with all that power, you haven’t done jack shit to hurt Wilbur.”

“Why would I-” Quackity sighed, running a hand over his face. “Look, everyone likes Wilbur right now. If I did something to him, it would hurt my image. That has to wait, okay? Can you please just drop it until we-”

“No! I’m sick and fucking tired of waiting for that bastard to get what’s been coming to him for _years_.”

Quackity let out a frustrated grunt. “Damn it, Schlatt, this isn’t important! I have to stop Dream from turning this whole SMP into his damn playground. Your personal vendetta against a man who’s just as dead and gone as you are is going to have to wait. And it _will_ wait because I’m not going to do anything about it right now.”

Silence filled the air as Schlatt’s face slowly darkened. The aloof and dimly sad expression his ghost usually wore shifted into one of bitter anger and betrayal, one that was infinitely more familiar to Quackity. For a brief instant, he felt guilty. But he quickly reassured himself that he was right. Schlatt was a walking figment of the past and if Quackity bothered himself with it, he’d never face the future. The past couldn’t be changed… so he didn’t want to think about it.

Schlatt broke the silence. “Then I won’t help you until you do.”

-

“You know Wilbur,” Techno said, trying to sound as patronizing as Wilbur had been the entire conversation. “This whole narrative you’re trying to spin of ‘we’re not so different, you and I’ is so obvious and stupid as hell.”

Wilbur hummed, smiling joylessly. "Tell me, when that bastard Dream comes poking around here, do you fantasize about doing to him what I did to Schlatt?"

That caught Techno completely off guard and he physically recoiled enough to bump into his brewing stand. "W-what? Are you _insane_? I'd never-"

"Ughhh, come on!” Wilbur threw his hands up in a wild show of exasperation. “Don't act like you wouldn't love to rip his precious SMP apart and then fuck him into the ground, just to prove you have the power to. You know, take him down a peg or two."

_~~“Take him down a peg or two? We could. Why do that when you could kill him? Burn him. It would be fun. We could. What a funny idea. Just kill him. It’s disgusting. He’s insulting us.”~~_

"Shut the hell up!” Techno shouted, crossing the room in broad strides, fists balled at his side. “How dare you insinuate- You have no idea what you’re talking about. I _don't_ want power! And certainly not the power to force someone to-“

Wilbur laughed in his face. "Everyone on this damn SMP wants power! It's all anyone here has ever cared about! Don't lie to me, Technoblade."

"Stop acting like you know everything.” Techno could feel his fingernails digging into his skin with the urge to grab Wilbur by the shirt. “You don't know me at all. All I want is to destroy the government, the root of power."

"Oh please, you just want the power to destroy everyone else's power. If you took away their power, government, or whatever you want to call it, what would they be left with? Anarchy? And who thrives in anarchy? The strong. Don’t act like you wouldn’t profit from that scenario."

_~~“He’s right.”~~_

"N-no, I-"

"Just accept it Techno!” Wilbur stepped forward, driving Techno back. “You're the bad guy! You're selfish, arrogant, not to mention a ruthless murderer. Plus, you let me get away with so much shit. You chose not to say anything because it _benefitted_ you. Honestly, everything would be so much easier if you just accept it."

_~~“He’s right. He’s right. He’s right. He can’t be. We can’t let that be right.”~~_

“I did what I had to!” Techno growled, even as he took another step back. “Your ideals are childish, Wilbur. You can’t sort people into boxes of bad or good guys. Everyone’s just following their code of ethics, doing what they have to. Nothing in this world is that black and white.”

“You’re so stubborn.” Wilbur crossed his arms. “What good does it do you to see everything so grey? Can’t you just listen to someone else for a change?”

_~~“The world is grey, cold. Listen. Run away. Blood is so vibrant, warm. Just listen.”~~_

“Oh nooo! You can’t, can you? It’s all about Technoblade.” He continued, tone mocking. “ _Technoblade_ never listens. _Technoblade_ never bows down. _Technoblade_ never dies… Even after having a damn anvil dropped on your head, you refused to die.”

_~~“He was trying to kill you.”~~_

-

Quackity forced out a laugh. It seemed like everyone had decided it was national audacity day without telling him. As he essentially sent spit flying at Schlatt’s face, the ghost’s expression remained unchanged. Sure, it was true that Schlatt had helped him get his footing politically and he was metaphorically (more or less) spitting on him by ignoring his end of the deal. But where did Schlatt get off thinking he was entitled to anything in the first place? Or that he could back out of the deal because Quackity was taking his due time? He was treating Quackity like a powerless child, just like he used to. Just like Dream was. He was sick of it.

“You won’t help me?” He drawled.

“No, I won’t.”

A second, far more manic, laugh ripped itself from his chest. “Like I needed you in the first place! When have I _ever_ needed you, Schlatt?”

“When have you-” Schlatt scoffed. “Try when I won you the fucking election!”

“I had fucking triple the votes you did! And if I really wanted to, I could’ve given my votes to Wilbur. _You’re_ the one who needed _me_.” Quackity poked the ghost in the chest, pushing him back a few steps. “You could barely do fucking anything without me. And now? Nothing’s changed.”

Schlatt looked down at his chest, laying a hand there delicately before making uneasy eye contact. “That’s not true! You’re being a-”

“You don’t seem to understand…” Quackity leaned forward until their faces were inches apart. “I have all the power.”

Schlatt didn’t say anything. Usually, Quackity would count that a blessing. But right now, it was pissing him the hell off. He was tired of being ignored. The dimly horrified recognition in Schlatt’s eyes didn’t register in his mind. Neither did the way he went stiff or held his breath (if ghosts even breathed.) What he did notice was the way the ghost was trying to lean away. He grabbed Schlatt’s arm. Once again, he was too angry to notice the way it felt like grabbing onto mist, or that it was only really staying in his grasp because of pure willpower.

“Do you hear me?” He growled.

Even as he opened his mouth, Schlatt didn’t make a sound.

“Do you fucking hear me?” Quackity screamed, shoving Schlatt to the ground. “Say it! I want you to say that I’m the one in charge.” Schlatt only stared up at him, eyes wide. “Goddamn you’re so fucking stupid, you know that? And you _will_ help me because you need me. Well, guess what, I never needed you! I never even wanted you! You were a slimy little rat of a man when you were alive. And now, you’re just a useless fucking coward.”

Schlatt lifted a hand. “Alex-”

“Don’t call me that!” Quackity unsheathed his sword, heart pounding in his ears. He chose not to wonder why it was from excitement. “You don’t get to address me like that anymore. Do you understand?

“Oh… really?” Schlatt lowered his hand, looking at the blade with an almost amused glint in his eye. “What am I supposed to call you then?”

Quackity grinned smugly. “Well, I think you should call me your emperor.”

Schlatt broke out into uproarious laughter, pressing a hand over his eyes. Quackity furrowed his brows at the sudden change, mouth falling open a little. Now this was a new level of audacity. His grip on his sword tightened. Finally regaining control of himself, Schlatt removed his hand to smirk at him.

“Emperor?” He mused as he stood up, letting the sword phase right through him. “Sounds a little familiar, doesn’t it?”

“What-” Quackity stumbled back, grunting angrily. “What the hell does that mean?”

“For someone who acted so high and might when I was alive, you sure are as self-centered as ever. If not more so.”

“I’m not self-centered-”

“Please, you’re just as self-centered as everyone else on this server. Or did you forget what Wilbur did to me?” Schlatt tilted his head at him. “I know you didn’t. You just want to. Because it’s inconvenient and uncomfortable. Well, did you ever consider how I feel about it?”

Quackity tried to interject. “T-that’s not fair.”

“You didn’t.” Schlatt continued, ignoring him. “You don’t give a shit. Don’t pretend you’re being selfless. Because guess what, everyone else is going to pick up on it soon enough. And I wonder who you’ll remind them of…”

-

The air disappeared from Techno’s lungs. He’d been so caught off guard that day, suddenly receiving a warning from Phil, scrambling to get ready for their attack. When Wilbur had shown up, he’d really only wanted him to get out of the way, he hadn’t bothered to consider why he was there. Why did he only show up again right at that moment? It was the worst possible time for him to have been bothering Techno and then… well, he’d practically lead the so-called ‘butcher army’ straight to him.

“You…” Techno retreated a few more steps, feeling all too unstable. “You were trying to get me killed, weren’t you?”

Wilbur’s expression darkened even as he smiled. “There you go. Put all the pieces together, have you? Yes, Technoblade, I led them directly to you on purpose. Did you seriously think I was that stupid? I was trying to tie up a few loose ends if you will. I was worried you’d pull some bullshit like this.”

“What happened to us being on the same side?” Another step back.

“Well, I’m on your side.” Wilbur pursed his lips. “I just wasn’t sure if you would try and betray me. And it certainly seems like that’s where you’re headed with all this moral posturing you’re doing.”

Techno stopped retreating. “You betrayed me first.”

Wilbur only laughed. It seemed the idea wasn’t even worth rebuttal to him.

_~~“He’s a traitor. All he does is look down on us. Blood. He betrayed us. Destroy him.”~~_

“I could,” Techno muttered and Wilbur only tilted his head at him. “I could tell them.”

For a moment, Wilbur tensed up before he seemed to regain control of himself. “Oh, please! What good would that do? Do you think they’d listen to a traitor over the harmless little ghost they’ve fallen in love with? Even if they did listen to you, do you seriously think they would be grateful? You’ve kept this from them for a long time.”

“They don’t have to be grateful,” Techno said honestly. It wasn’t about gratitude.

“Are you serious?” Wilbur stilled, watching Techno like one might eye a hungry lion. “Do you really intend to go through with it? Without a second thought? I mean… we’re brothers, after all.”

Techno outright laughed at that. "We aren't brothers-"

"Not by blood, no. But we grew up together, went through hell together, and now, whether you like it or not, Technoblade.” Wilbur smiled. “We’re family.”

_~~“Family. No. Our family. No. Phil and Tommy and Wilbur. They aren’t family, they can’t be.”~~_

“I-”

“Will you betray your family?”

Techno was not so naïve as to not see what Wilbur was doing. Yet that didn’t stop the horrible pit from forming in his chest. It wasn’t as though all those years growing up together hadn’t meant anything to him. In fact, he treasured those memories most dearly. He didn’t want to admit that he considered Wilbur family because then Wilbur would be exactly right. He couldn’t say anything, couldn’t betray him. Yet if Wilbur was his family, so were Phil and Tommy. Wouldn’t he be betraying the trust of the two of them by _not_ saying anything? There was no easy way out of this. Not unless he did as he had been and denied they were family. With every passing moment that became more painful to do.

Stuck in the empty air left by Wilbur’s unanswered question, Techno allowed himself something he rarely did, a moment to grieve. If only Wilbur had never started L’manburg, never come to the SMP in the first place. Starting that government had destroyed him, it was clear to see. If only Wilbur had stayed at home, where Techno had left him. Why couldn’t he have just stayed there? Why did he have to run off? Why did he have to start a government of all things? Techno didn’t know, so he grieved for yet another person he’d lost to the cruelty of government.

_~~“Why did he leave? If only he didn’t. Of course he did. It’s all his fault. Hurt him. Please don’t. If only…”~~_

Too caught up in the swell of grief he was indulging in to clearly think through his words, Techno whispered. “I wish you’d never left home.”

-

Quackity felt his heart stop. In the deafening silence that followed, he was violently snapped back to reality. The horrible, ugly reality of what he had been doing. Schlatt was right, he had been sinking down into the tar pit of his own selfish ambitions, drowning in the anger and bitterness of his ideals. Worst of all, he could see that he had indeed been slowly turning into Schlatt. He was everything he hated.

“Wouldn’t that be funny?” Schlatt said, seeming just as amused by that thought as he was by Quackity’s expression. “That’s why I was laughing, you know. It’s just so funny!”

He put a hand to his chest, feeling sick. “Stop it…”

“Don’t get me wrong.” Schlatt lifted his hands placatingly. “I don’t want you to stop this little character arch you’re going through. It may work just as well for me as if you actually fucking cared.”

“How the hell would it help you?” He spat out.

Schlatt hummed. “Why do you suppose you’re the only one who can see me? Could it be because you’re the only one who still thought about me all the goddamn time? What would happen if everyone else suddenly started to be reminded of me? Well, I think I just might have the chance to get a few words in.”

There was no way for Quackity to know if he was telling the truth, if that was actually how things worked. For all he knew, it was because he ate Schlatt’s heart. But it didn’t seem as though Schlatt himself knew for sure. Yet that wasn’t really the point, was it? Whether they could literally see him or not, if Quackity continued down this path, they would hear his voice. Schlatt sighed, walking up to Quackity, and putting a hand on his shoulder. It was cold.

“Listen, I don’t give a damn about what you think about Dream. And I don’t care whether you get your political power or not. All I ask is that you rip away everything Wilbur ever had; whatever way you see fit. If you won’t, I’ll have to do it myself.” He smirked. “Because believe it or not, I _don’t_ need you.”

The feeling of power Quackity hadn’t even realized he’d been chasing was quickly being replaced with a more familiar powerlessness. He couldn’t muster any sort of response, letting Schlatt walk away. For a minute or two, he’d felt like he could do anything he wanted. Next thing he knew he’d come crashing back down, only to realize his thrown had been built on ash and sand. This wasn’t what he wanted. This had never been what he wanted. No man was supposed to have all the power, not even him.

Realizing that he’d practically been betraying himself made him want to run away. Even as his fingers twitched at his side, he convinced himself he needed to stay. The festival was coming up and it was a chance for him to redeem himself. They would kill Dream, end his reign, and he would take a step back. It would be… selfless.

“Quackity?”

He spun to see Tubbo standing a little way down the path, head tilted in confusion. The kid looked tired, his eyes hazily searching the air around Quackity. Damn, he must look insane… and maybe he was. Shaking his head free of the thought, he turned back to L’manburg. For now, he had a country to run.

He started walking, gesturing for Tubbo to follow. “C’mon, let’s go meet with everyone else.”

-

“What?” The smile that had been ever-present on his lips since the day he died vanished as Wilbur turned to him. “ _You_ wish _I’d_ never left home?”

_~~“If only he’d never started L’manburg, none of this would have ever happened.”~~_

“If you’d never started L’manburg… none of this would have ever happened,” Techno spoke slowly, unable to stop himself.

“You… motherfucking bastard!” Wilbur screamed, crossing the room suddenly. “You have no right to say that. You left me alone! You, Phil, and even Tommy, you all ran off without ever saying a proper goodbye. Did you expect me to stay there like some fucking puppy and wait for you to all come back? Just fucking twiddle my thumbs until you decided to remember I existed? No. I was going to build an empire. Be someone. And guess what? I did exactly that. I don’t regret a goddamn thing.”

“But-”

“Clearly you never cared about me!” Wilbur choked on the words, glowing tears appearing in the corners of his eyes. “You only came to Pogtopia because you knew could spill blood. I don’t know why I even bothered trying to help you. You’re just a bloodthirsty monster so far up your own ass pretending to be an ‘anarchist’ you can’t see you’ve always been the bad guy.”

_~~“Monster. Monster. Monster. Bloodthirsty. Blood. Blood.~~ Blood for the blood god. _ _Just a monster. Bloodthirsty. Blood. Blood_ _._ **_Blood for the monster born of blood, turned into a god. Blood.”_ **

The edges of Techno’s vision started to blur into streaks of red. He’d let himself sink into his emotions, wallow in them for just a moment too long. Wilbur’s outburst had startled him, he had no idea. But he had no time to process, he’d given in to his emotions too much. The voices were listening… and the voices only heard one part of what he’d said. Wilbur called him a **monster**. A **bloodthirsty** monster. He only cared about **blood. Blood for the blood god. We demand blood. He’s right. You are a monster, our monster. We demand blood.** He’d lost control. Wilbur _knew_ better.

“Get out.” Techno choked out, trembling in barely controlled bloodlust.

“Oh, fuck off!” Wilbur scoffed, his voice sounding weak with emotion. “You can’t just ignore everything I said and get all pissy because I called you a name.”

“If you don’t get the **fuck** out right now,” Techno said sharply, desperately praying Wilbur would listen to him. “I am going to **hurt you. Destroy you.** Please-”

“N-no.” Even as Wilbur crossed his arms, he seemed to be growing uncertain. “It’s snowing out there I’ll-”

**~~_“Do it!”_~~**

Grabbing a water bottle from his brewing stand, Techno roared. “Get the **fuck** out!”

Wilbur stumbled backward, barely missing the spray of water as Techno threw the bottle on the ground. He froze, looking stunned and when Techno smashed the second bottle, he was less lucky. Only a few tiny droplets touched his skin and the instant they did, it burst into smoke. Crying out in pain, Wilbur scrambled to get away from him. He looked terrified. Techno couldn’t stop.

“What the hell-” Wilbur cried as another bottle exploded, looking desperately between Techno and the door.

**~~_“He’s trapped! He deserves it. Blood! Blood!”_~~**

For a fraction of a second, Techno hesitated. He didn’t know if Wilbur deserved it. Maybe the voices were right. But at the same time, it-it was _Wilbur_ … That hesitation was all the ghost needed to make a decision between the rock and the hard place. He fled out the door, taking his chance in the snow. Techno chased after him, two more bottles in hand.

“Techno stop, please!” Wilbur cried as he collapsed into the snow, sounding like a terrified child.

If Techno had been in his right mind, he would’ve heard that familiar lilt in his voice that was a dead giveaway. Wilbur was putting on a performance. But Techno’s vision had long since faded into pure red, a single, unstoppable desire on his mind: the desire to **kill**. If he hadn’t been so one sighted, he probably would’ve seen the figure running towards them. If he had seen who it was, he probably wouldn’t have lifted yet another bottle over his head. He wanted to **watch Wilbur burn**.

“Technoblade!” A young voice called over the freezing air. “What the hell are you doing?”

Tommy. The instant the blonde teen appeared in the warm light streaming from the windows, the voices went silent. Techno lowered his arm as Wilbur scrambled over to his brother. Oh no. What _was_ he doing? For a moment, Techno felt the unbelievable guilt that always accompanied one such outburst. Yet the instant Wilbur hid behind Tommy, terrified expression melting into one of unbridled smugness, he no longer felt guilty.

“Why were you attacking Ghostbur?” Tommy asked, characteristically loud and angry.

“Why?” Techno forced his voice to slip back into monotone, slowly looking over at Wilbur. “Ask him.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Wilbur insisted when Tommy looked over at him. “W-we were only talking…”

“Talking?” Tommy spun back on Techno. “What’s wrong with you, man? You got a screw loose in your head or something? Sure, Ghostbur is kinda a dumbass, but-”

Techno tuned him out. Simply turning and beginning to climb the stairs back to his house, he knew trying to argue was pointless. He was sick of arguing anyway. Sometimes, people just don’t listen. Some people just don’t change. Techno stopped at the top of the stairs, looking down at the two brothers. Tommy continued shouting a string of nonsensical words and curses. Wilbur calmly dodged the falling snowflakes, watching Techno back. After everything, Wilbur remained the man he had been that night. The Wilbur he had grown up with was dead. That Wilbur would’ve known better than to say what he had. This Wilbur was not family.

“Wilbur.” Techno interrupted Tommy. “If you don’t get away from my house right now. I will tell him everything.”

Wilbur stopped moving, expression growing dark. Tiny spurts of steam rose from his skin as the snowflakes began to hit him. They both knew Techno meant it.

“What?” Tommy turned to look at Wilbur. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Wilbur controlled his expression immediately, shrugging loosely. “I d-don’t know. But if you wanted me gone, Techno, you could’ve just asked!”

“Leave.”

Techno entered his home, not waiting to see the ghost leave. He knew Wilbur wouldn’t risk staying. Looking down at the puddles splattered across his floor, Techno balled his fists. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to destroy every last remnant of L’manburg and make sure everyone knew damn well what it’s ‘founding father’ was really like.

Of course, he had no way of knowing the way the ghost smiled as he wandered away into the forest.

-

Dream stood atop a hill, watching the distant figures mingle in their ‘country.’ Dark clouds rolled over the horizon, slowly creeping closer. Dream adjusted his mask, paying the impending threat of rain no thought. He was far more interested in the dwindling embers of rebellion in the distance. In a single graceful, but outwardly lackadaisical, move he sat down in the grass. The figures drew closer together, eyeing the horizon as if they could feel his ill will in the coming storm. He chuckled.

"Would you look at that? They’re having a little meeting to discuss _me_. How cute.” Dream’s eye was caught by a shimmering figure lurking around the outskirts of the town. “And look who it is, the dead ‘puppet master’ himself.”

He was almost tempted to laugh at the way the ghost carried himself, like he was the most important person to exist. It was so amusing. Wilbur really hadn’t changed at all. Dream lifted his hand, squinting through his mask so he could position his fingers just so. Wilbur fit perfectly in the palm of his hand.

“Wilbur, the idealistic revolutionary, driven mad by his own greed and the moral ambiguity of the actions it fueled." He mused to himself.

“I wouldn’t call him idealistic.”

Dream froze at the familiar voice. He turned just enough to see the ghost of none other than Schlatt himself. How unexpected. The ghost looked just as surprised as he was to have been noticed. After a few moments of tense silence, they both smiled. Dream lowered his hand and Schlatt buried his hands in his pant pockets, looking infinitely more comfortable than he ever had in life. Yet that swirl of darkness in his eyes was still the same.

Dream continued, his tone lighter. "And Schlatt, the power-hungry dictator, seeking to punish the world that burnt him and all the self-righteous people in it."

Schlatt tsked. “You’re so fucking pretentious.”

"Both dead, and yet both more influential than ever.” Dream turned back to face L’manburg. “I wonder, will you explode for me again? Will you burn brighter and larger this time? Will the inferno of your passions finally turn everyone's determination to ash?”

“I think we could arrange something.”

Dream laughed. “Maybe…”

**Author's Note:**

> Did y’all think I was gonna have Quackity demand Schlatt call him Daddy? Because I definitely consider it lmfaooooooo
> 
> But anyway, I’m gonna be honest with y’all real quick. I don’t know if I’ll write another one of these. I’m going back to college later this week and I’ll be pretty busy. Plus, things are moving so fast on the SMP it makes it hard to write things before they become outdated or nonsensical. (Like how am I supposed to deal with the fact they brought Schlatt back for like 3 seconds so he could say he just wanted to jerk off and be left alone) I didn’t sign up for this lmao, the first one was just supposed to be a simple smut fic and now I’m making a whole angst fest like bruhhh. I had some other things I wanted to work on before this too. I tried to give this a vaguely conclusive but also open ending so you can imagine the rest as you like. This isn’t me definitively saying I won’t make another (because y’all are very sweet and I enjoy making you happy), but I just don’t want you to anticipate it, y’know? Cause it’s not too likely rn lmao.


End file.
